Out Of Order: A Logan and Veronica Story
by manie88
Summary: Starts off from the car scene in the Pilot, where Logan is badgering her from his XTerra. Somewhat AU Lilly is dead but Veronica was not raped at Shelley Pomroy's party. Everything else will become clear later.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Don't own VM. Rob Thomas does.  
**Rating:** R potentially NC17.  
**Length:** WIP  
**Description:** Angst/ Romance. Starts off from the car scene in the Pilot. Slightly AU; Lilly is dead but Veronica was not raped at Shelley Pomroy's party. Everything else will become clear later.

**Chapter 1:**

Veronica's P.O.V.

"There's Veronica."

He acknowledges this loudly enough for me to hear just in case I hadn't already noticed the bright yellow monstrosity of a car creeping up beside me. Or the crooked tilt of that familiar smirk shining my way.

As if he hadn't already caught me flinch.

I suppose it's the closest to a warning I'll get.

_Deep breath, Veronica._

I arch my back and brace myself for what's to come as the X-Terra pulls up to keep pace with my steady step.

That familiar flutter of fear and… well, of something else in my belly.

I'm half-inclined to run but I tell myself I'm too strong to. I tell myself, I'm not afraid.

But then, I tell myself a lot of things.

"Hey Ronnie. Hey, we've decided that we'd, uh, we'd rather surf than study today," it's Logan's trademark mischievous grin I'm getting right now "…you wanna come with? Duncan will promise to take his shirt off."

I tell myself, I really shouldn't be surprised. But then, I always am.

"Does that sweeten the pot?"

He glances back at his appreciative audience and I try to keep from bolting. I'm a bit too unnerved to be clever right now but at least I can manage to muster up some indifference.

"Does it make you horny?" he turns to Duncan in the passenger seat and sneers. "Hey DK, flex for your ex."

"Shut up, Logan"

Oh. Wow. Chivalry is _not_ dead. He'll defend my honor if my name is spoken in association with his.

"All right, all right," Logan concedes, only to halt and pull out a flask from his pocket. "Hey. Hey. Hey!" 

We both come to a stop and I turn to face him.

"What do you say to a little hootch, huh?"

His knuckles are white as he clutches the flask tightly.

"What's the matter, aren't you your mother's daughter? Hmm?"

The grin is gone and the hand resting on his steering wheel is shaking so slightly that no one else notices.

"Now there was a woman who could drink." He narrows his eyes.

"Hey, what's she up to nowadays, maybe she'll join us… Do you know where she is? Any clue?"

Duncan abruptly grabs him by the shoulder and mumbles, "Leave her alone, man."

"Ooh, chill pill, man. All right." He gulps discreetly and smiles at me one last time before driving away.

"Aw, she used to be fun, man…" I hear distantly as he races off.

I look after the retreating X-Terra and swallow over the rising lump in my throat.

(-)

I walk by the girl's bathroom near the art hallway in the middle of my lunch hour the following day and pause briefly to look at the 'Out of Order' sign hastily taped up on the door before walking in.

He's sitting on the countertop by the sinks, dangling his legs languidly off the edge.

And he looks up at me, eyes shining like globs of melting chocolate and he tugs at the ends of his long sleeves and he shrugs.

I walk over to him and slowly raise my hand to graze the curve of his cheek. He gulps and rests his fingers on my hips to pull me closer as I rise on the tips of my toes to kiss the edge of his jaw.

Slowly, he takes in a deep breath and lowers his forehead to meet mine and he bites his lower lip. And I take his mouth into mine and slip my tongue between his lips as he pulls me up into his lap, scooting backwards to rest on the mirror behind him.

He tucks my fingers between his and kisses me earnestly and we stay that way for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Logan's P.O.V.

To be honest, I couldn't explain it if I tried.

I see her walk by sometimes with that same scowl on her face and I could sneak her somewhere and smooth out that wrinkled brow with a kiss but I don't. I mumble something stupid.

She retorts with something clever and jarring, and as always I'm caught with surprise.

Later on when we're alone and I kiss her and she kisses me, I won't apologize and she won't ask me to.

Life as we know it.

It's not love, we've both always insisted on that. It' not even affection. To be honest, I don't even like her.

And the feeling's mutual. So what do I care if it's all wrong.

I'll roll off of her sometimes and I can see that sheen of tears bubbling from her eyes and she blinks them back before she thinks I notice. But me, I notice everything.

Like that necklace she's wearing, the quaint gold locket _he_ gave her forever ago, and she thinks I don't notice. She keeps it tucked underneath her shirt where no one sees and I always forget for a second until I'll pull it off and there it is.

And for a moment I'll stop. The jabbing little reminder right in my throat twinkling with its nonchalant innocence. Everything that was good and everything that went wrong.

And she thinks I don't notice.

But it makes it easier. To hate her.

To be rougher than I have to. To leave her lips bruised.

And she's attributed her own scratches to the scars that were already on my back. And I leave her spit-slick and exhausted.

Life as we know it. Is _really_ fucked up.

And then she'll cry. And I feel no sympathy because those tears, they're not for me. They never have been. 

It's not rose petals and hand-holding. It's really nothing. It all started as an accident and probably, it'll end that way.

And maybe things would get easier.

To be honest, I don't really hate her. It's too hard to hate her.

Sometimes I even wonder if I could just take her hand into mine and walk out into the sunlight. Maybe, the world wouldn't shatter.

But then I realize what an absurd thought it is and I shove it away.

So I don't love her. But I don't hate her.

To be honest, I couldn't explain it if I tried.


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter gets a little hectic. There are lots of P.O.V. switches and flasbacks... but it is longer.

**Chapter 3**

Veronica's P.O.V.

"_To die, to sleep—to sleep, perchance to dream_…"

To dream, I would close my eyes to the memory of a searing hot touch that glows at the ends of his fingers. I would close my eyes to flushed cheeks kissed by the lips of June sunlight at high noon, that's the way it feels with him. The sheen of sweat that follows you all through the exhilaration of summer days that fade into lazy, humid nights.

Life as we know it.

I would close my eyes to something far more restless than being awake.

The _Hamlet_ essay test is tomorrow. All soliloquies are fair game and I'm hastily going through my highlighted quotes in the book when he calls.

A few minutes later I'm in my car, driving over to the privileged zip code, a few miles away on a planet all its own. 

With his voice all hushed and hesitant over the phone he says, "No one's home."

He says, "You can come over. _If you want_."

What I want is to finish up and go to sleep.

What I do is mumble something to my father about having left my copy of _Hamlet_ at a friend's house and being back in an hour or two.

I think I caught the raised eyebrow before I quietly hurried out the door.

I don't go through your usual boy-girl rendezvous ritual; no make-up, my hair is still carelessly pulled back and I didn't bother changing out of my Curious George PJs.

When he opens the door, it's not like he's expecting anything better. 

(-) Flashback (-)

"Hey, it's Veronica Mars!"

She nervously bunches up the material of her white cotton dress in her fingers and doesn't reply.

"Who the fuck invited you!" Brad Walters inquires cheerfully. Though new to the 90909 zip code, he'd quickly learned who the school black sheep was.

Before she could say anything in response, his attention averted to the two boys behind her hauling up a new keg into the house, and forgetting about the unwanted guest Brad swung the front door to Shelley Pomroy's house wide open. She darted in through the door and began to walk gingerly around the house, trying to ignore the hushed whispers that followed her steps as she searched for a familiar face. When she saw her former boyfriend's apologetic face as some girl she didn't recognize traced kisses down his neck, she walked quickly by trying not to seem as unnerved and heartbroken as she felt.

"Golly, I wish _I_ had my own stalker," Logan Echolls snarked pointedly, gulping beer from his red plastic cup as he walked by Duncan.

(-) 00 (-) 

Logan's P.O.V.

I don't think she knows that she does this.

When Veronica is nervous one of her hands will wander up to her collarbone and her fingers will find that small locket. On days she's wearing something like a tank top, one of her hands will almost always be digging in a pocket where she keeps it. 

He's the bad habit she carries around and thinks that nobody notices.

To look at her now, you would think she's so completely cool and collected. But even Veronica Mars has a giveaway. 

"Hey," she mumbles as she walks by me into the dark house. Retreating inside, she looks as if she's being swallowed into shadows. When I shut the door, for a second, she's gone altogether.

"You, uh… want something to drink?"

She shakes her head no, and leans for a moment on the banister by the stairs.

This is the hard part.

"I…um, I can't stay long…"

"Uh, yeah. Okay…"

She purses her lips for a second and sighs. "I'll have some water…"

"Alright," I mumble and head towards the kitchen to get her a bottle and by the time I get back she's already headed upstairs.

I walk up to my room and find her seated on my bed, with her face in her hands. The creak of the door snaps her head up and she awkwardly clears her throat.

She slowly stands up and I step towards her until we're only a few inches apart and I tower above her tiny frame. I lower my face to kiss her and instinctively she pulls away a bit before relenting. The bottle falls from my fingers, rolling along the floor as I lift her into my arms and she wraps hers around my neck. And we calmly tumble onto the bed.

(-) Flashback (-)

She looks up at him, all astonished, flushed cheeks, stained with fading streaks of mascara tinted tear drops. Low hiccoughs and winding sobs escape her throat as she pulls her knees into her chest, holding up her dress where one strap was torn.

He looks down at his throbbing fist and the crumpled body on the floor. And then back at Veronica, who looks smaller than he's ever seen her. Abruptly, he unzips his hoodie and tosses it near her feet. She looks at it briefly, touched more by the small gesture than the fact that he had saved her, and feels her eyes dripping over with tears again.

Brad coughs suddenly, his entire form shaking on the floor. Logan looks down at him again, at the emerging black eye, the bloody nose and feels inclined to kick him again in the stomach. It was likely the kid wouldn't remember the incident at all when he would discovered these bruises the following morning.

He decides against it but rather stops to frown at Veronica one last time before shaking his head to himself and walking out of the bedroom into the blaring music of the party.

(-) 00 (-) 

Veronica's P.O.V.

He slides his T-shirt on over his head and averts my eyes. Slowly getting up, Logan makes his way over to corner of the room, sliding open the window as he slips a cigarette between his lips. This is just to make it clear that he's a badass. I roll my eyes at him and he ignores it as he lights the tip.

When I'm done getting dressed, I hastily comb through my hair with my fingertips and pull it up as I start to leave his room. Walking by his dresser I pick up my keys and head out as he follows.

"My dad's gonna be out of town this weekend," I say quietly, without turning around.

"Okay."

I open the front door and step outside.

"Bye," he says, almost inaudible. I turn around and pull the cigarette dangling from his mouth, stubbing it along the wall by the door.

"Bye," I reply and he smirks at me before closing the door.

(-) Flashback (-)

She slides her toes into the sparkling, cool water, sitting at the edge of Shelley Pomroy's pool. The sunlight peeks discreetly through in pinpricks of light that sneak between the tree leaves, making the twinkling light bulbs that adorned them beautifully the night before look tacky and gaudy against the dawn sky.

Plastic cups and spilled beer litter the poolside with a few people here and there, lying still on patio chairs like decaying bodies.

Veronica Mars surveys her surroundings from the shrouded corner of the pool where the sunlight hadn't quite gotten to and she shudders, bunching up Logan's hoodie in the middle so that it wound around her more snugly. Truth was, she wished she could've headed home after she'd seen Duncan the night before but she'd told her father she was sleeping over at a friend's. Exhausted from the process of setting up his new P.I. practice, he hadn't thought to question her. And so she found herself with nowhere to go. Last night she'd wandered into an empty bedroom when Brad had cornered her and… well. She didn't want to think of the rest.

More and more, she found herself saying that lately. _She didn't want to think of the rest_. Her life with Lilly, Duncan… _she didn't want to think of the rest_. The way her family used to be…

Her old friends were her new enemies and she didn't understand any of it.

She caught herself wishing sometimes that her father had just done what was easy, or that maybe she had. But when she did allow herself to think of Lilly, of everything, she knew that getting to the truth wasn't just her father's crusade. It was her own.

"And she cries…"

Veronica looked up, startled to see Logan hovering above her, and realized that a teardrop had escaped her eyes without notice. She quickly wiped it away with the heel of her hand as he flopped down by her, splashing his feet into the water.

He looked at the boots he'd neglected to remove underneath the glint of the pool water and giggled. "I'm gonna be soooo pissed about that when I'm sober…"

She didn't reply but glanced at him in confusion. After last night she'd been expecting more compassion from him.

"So Veronica Mars… why are we all weepy this morning? _Hm_?" He gazed imploringly into her eyes, his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. "What the fuck are you even doing here?"

"Uh, I—"

"You realize that nobody wants you here, right?"

Veronica felt a sob making its way up her throat and she felt her body shaking.

"Oh, don't you fucking cry!" he muttered, his voice cracking. "You don't even—"

Logan stopped, his face paled and he doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach. Veronica leapt backwards as he abruptly threw up on the edge, his vomit dripping into the pool, and slowly, she placed an apprehensive hand on his back. Suddenly, she noticed his shoulders shake and heard what seemed at first to be a choking laugh.

It was then she realized that he was crying.

Veronica pulled him closer into a hug and he tucked his head into the curve of her neck and he cried.

(-) 00 (-)

Logan's PO.V.

Was it the _befores_ or the _afters_ that made it all so hard?

In the _befores_ there were the awkward silences. In the _afters_, there was the emptiness.

Before there was apprehension, after there was guilt.

She stubs out my cigarette and she offers me that almost smile and walks away, her golden hair swinging behind her. And I walk back into the house with its crevices crusted with loneliness and I flop back into my bed.

I close my eyes and I remember the first time I kissed her and that it felt like the first day of summer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Logan's P.O.V.

She sits there stabbing at her meatloaf with the spork, occasionally glancing over at the 09er table.

She sits there, with her face resting on a palm, her cheeks puffed in a pout as she pines away for one, Duncan Kane, who sits there, not noticing.

But me, I notice everything.

Before I know what I'm doing, I hop on his lap and start rubbing at my chest, glaring at her mockingly as the whole table erupts in laughter on her behalf. She looks at me briefly with that mixture of disbelief and grudging resignation when the new kid suddenly plops down in front of her, blocking my view.

(-) Flashback (-)

"The stupid bitch threw up in my pool," Shelley declared, throwing down her books on the table and sitting down. "My dad had it, like, sanitized but I want the freakin' thing drained and refilled. I don't wanna get Hepatitis or something."

Logan cleared his throat and glanced over to where Veronica was sitting a few tables away, stabbing away at her meatloaf. When she raised her eyes to momentarily meet his, he quickly averted his glance.

"Yeah, I heard she got really wasted," Madison Sinclair threw in. "I heard she went down on that new kid, Brad Wilson or whatever…"

"No, dude, he's in the hospital. He has some internal bleeding thing…" Dick Casablancas informed everyone. "Guess Mars likes it rough, huh…"

"Excuse me," Duncan mumbled, abruptly getting up from the table and walking out of the quad.

"Okay, and what the hell is his problem?" Madison inquired.

"Yeah, I heard his sister died, but that was, like, a month ago," Logan retorted pointedly. "What a buzzkill, right?"

(-) 00 (-)

Logan's P.O.V.

"Dude, have you noticed the new kid hanging all over your trailer park ex?" I observe, watching as Troy Vandergraff, the same kid who sat with Veronica at lunch, is chatting her up by her locker.

She chuckles lightly and rolls her eyes at him.

"Yeah, that's Troy Vandergraff. He's alright…" Duncan replies, opening his locker "…my dad knows his family…"

"Then should we maybe enlighten him as to who the school leper is?"

"Man, get off it," he snaps irritably. "They can both date whoever they want. Anyway, what's it to you?"

"It's nothing to me."

"Then do you have to go out of your way to pick on her?" he fishes out his chemistry book and slams his locker shut. 

"Looks like someone still has the hots for his sister."

He stops and looks at me heatedly, gritting his teeth "Go to hell."

And with that he walks off bumping pointedly into my shoulder.

During my Study Hall I get a freshman who aids in the main office to pull her out of her history class with a pass to guidance and a few minutes later she's swinging open the door to our little trysting place.

I look up from where I'm sitting on the counter.

"Yeah?"

"Hey…" I look blankly at her.

"Um… you pulled me out of history?"

"Yeah I…uh… saw you talking to that new kid…" I've never been much for small talk.

"Yeah? Troy… something…. So?"

I don't reply.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Hey, I'm just curious. The kid's been hanging around you for a few days now—"

"So not only do _you_ not want to be my friend but it bothers you when someone else does?"

"Oh get off it. You are not that naïve." I scoff at her. "What were you guys even talking about?"

"Whether he should bring the condoms and the Barry White or should I." 

"That's really funny, Veronica."

"No, you know what's really funny? You going around hitting on anything in a skirt and then being bothered that I'm talking to someone who's not you."

"That's different—"

"Because it's you doing it?"

"Yes! I mean, I'm just doing it because it's expected of me—"

"Well from what I hear it's expected of me too."

"So what happens when he asks you out?"

She gets quiet and crosses her arms.

"Do you say, yes?"

"I don't know, Logan! What do you do when you meet a girl you like for more than just sex?"

"I—that's… I'm not looking for anyone else, Veronica!"

"But when you do!"

"Then I don't know!"

"Then this stops!" she replies, resolutely.

I clench my jaw. "Just like that."

"Yeah… just like that."

"You know," I say quietly. "Just because I'm not making you mix tapes or… gosh, I don't know, buying you cheesy gold lockets with our picture and initials engraved in it, doesn't mean that this is just nothing…"

She looks at me in disbelief and her mouth falls slightly agape before she storms out. The bathroom door swings violently behind her.

(-) Flashback (-)

The locket sparkled beneath the afternoon sunlight, swinging lightly in the wind as it was dangling on his finger.

"Hi."

"Uh, hi." She replied, snatching it from his hand.

"You, uh, left that at Shelley's," said Logan "…the other day."

Veronica had been searching for it ever since the party, but hadn't realized she'd left it poolside, where she was playing with it in her fingers before Logan had shown up.

"Don't worry… I didn't open it or anything," he lied. He had opened it and scoffed at the black and white picture it held, of Duncan placing a chaste kiss on Veronica's cheek and the "D + V" engraved on the facing side.

"Uh… thanks," she mumbled.

"Okay," he replied, standing there awkwardly for a moment.

"Oh, uh, I have your hoodie… come in… I'll go get it."

Uneasily stepping inside, Logan noted how much smaller and darker this place was compared to the former Mars residence, where he'd spent much of his time. She disappeared around the corner and returned a few moments later, clutching the freshly washed hoodie in her hands.

"The Smiths," she remarked approvingly at the band logo on the bottom left, remembering that she had lent him his first Smiths CD.

"Uh, yeah… I guess I'll go."

"Hey," she said, as he started to turn around. "Do you… uh… d-do you want something to eat?"

"I'm… I'm not really hungry."

"Oh. Okay…"

"Uh, you know what?" he shrugged. "I kinda am…"

She smiled and walked behind the counter of the kitchenette located right near the front door of the cramped apartment. "What do you feel like?"

"Let's go with the standard issue PB&J."

"Good choice," she replied, retrieving the jars of peanut butter and jelly.

He rubbed his knuckles across his forehead and watched as she began to assemble his sandwich.

"Headache?" she asked.

"Yeah, a migraine… I've been getting them a lot, lately…"

"Right behind your eyes, near the front part of your head?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Let's just say I've been practically free-basing Excedrin… you get them after an exciting night of insomniac infomercial watching binges?"

"Have you seen that new pillow Tony Little is selling?" he chuckled lightly.

"Man, if I had that kind of neck support, maybe I could sleep at night…" she replied, smiling as she cut off the crusts of the sandwich.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled, sliding the plate over to him. "What? You don't eat them anyway."

Logan looked it briefly and sighed. "On second thought… I think I'm gonna have to pass…"

"How come?" she frowned.

"I, uh… I've also been having some stomach issues…"

"So you haven't been eating," Veronica inquired, realizing that he had been looking thinner lately.

"No, I-I have… just… not as much, I mean… most days I'll get by with the excruciating churning in my gut but on the bad ones I tend to upchuck, well… _you_ know."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"Yeah… it's stress or something…" he looked down at his lap and took a deep breath. "My mom's gone."

Before she could reply he added. "Wait; don't tell anyone… my dad said I wasn't supposed to say anything…"

"I won't."

"I… she kinda just left…"

"When?"

"Day before Shelley's party…"

"Oh."

"Yeah, I…" he stopped, and glanced over at her, shaking his head. "You said you had Excedrin?"

"Yeah… there's some in the medicine cabinet… down the hall to your right."

He abruptly got up and disappeared at the turn of the hall. When he didn't return in a few minutes Veronica went after Logan, only to find him standing in her room.

He was looking resentfully at a framed picture of the four of them on a beach after Homecoming; himself, Lilly, Veronica and Duncan. A bitter laugh escaped his throat as he looked up to see her standing in the doorway.

He broke open the back and removed the picture.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" she yelled, trying to pull it away from his hands but he pushed her aside.

"THIS ISN'T WHO WE ARE, VERONICA!"

He crumpled the picture in his hands and threw the frame across the room where the glass shattered and rained down on the floor. She retreated in a corner of the room, trying to hold back her tears as he started to leave with one final glance her way.

After she heard the door outside slam, Veronica took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. She had to clean up the mess before her father returned from the office.

(-) 00 (-)

Logan's P.O.V.

I lie on my back and pull it out from my wallet. The picture I stole from Veronica. Wrinkled and folded over a million times over.

It's the widest I've ever seen her smile, I think. To her right is Duncan, giving her that _sick puppy in love_ look. To her left is me, sticking my tongue out. By me is Lilly, smirking mischievously and a part of her arm extended from her holding the camera.

Yeah. This isn't who we are anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Veronica's P.O.V.

Can you call it friends with benefits when you're not exactly friends and the benefits just make you feel…I don't know.

_Guilty_ isn't the right word for it. The whole using each other thing, it is, after all, mutual.

I couldn't call it _cheap_, really. Not when it goes both ways. He doesn't like it any better than I do, that much I know.

I'm always half-inclined to expect a dirty victory smirk to slither across his face so that I can remember that I hate him. But it's never been that way. He would never make it that easy.

Always afterwards, there's this slow redness that starts to creep up his neck and into his cheeks and he'll rush to the bathroom to splash cold water to hush his skin into a numb, ghastly white.

And then I'll know. That he's just as afraid as I am.

He chews at the end of his pencil and nervously darts his eyes sideways at me. Then he clears his throat and lifts himself in his chair.

A paper plane suddenly lands in my hair, and I pull it out and turn to discover Dick Casablancas grinning my way. I narrow my eyes and he blows me a kiss.

I turn again to face forward before Mrs. Murphy turns from the blackboard and notice Logan chuckling. He waves at me with a derisive smile spread across his lips, wiggling his fingers jokingly.

His smile dwindles and a cold clarity settles in on his face and I remember that I don't understand him at all. And I think to myself, maybe I do hate him.

But _hate_ isn't the right word for it.

(-)

"It's de ja vu all over again," he greets from behind me as I sit dejected by my car while the Neptune High parking lot empties out. 

When I first noticed that the air had been conveniently let out of one of my tires, I decided to sit and wait until my classmates departed and pulled out my Sidekick for a rousing game of Internet Solitaire.

"Yeah," I mumble to him, putting away my phone as the last car besides his X-Terra leaves the parking lot. "If nothing else I can depend on continuity."

This is the first we've talked since the little confrontation in the bathroom a few days ago. Neither of us mention it.

He plops down to sit by me.

(-) Flashback (-)

Veronica Mars stood by her car, frowning and biting her lip in confusion. She blinked back her tears and wrapped her arms around herself as a few of her former friends stood a few feet away, grinning and waving patronizingly at her. Duncan stood among them, sighing disdainfully and avoiding her eyes.

Logan departed from the group and strolled by her on the way back towards the building, biting into an apple.

He chewed slowly and stopped to stand by her momentarily.

"Bummer," he noted towards the car, with no sympathy in his voice and continued back into the school. Veronica heard a clap of thunder above her and a drizzling rain began to make its way down and dejected, she sat down beside the flat tire as the other students piled into their cars and drove quickly away.

Noticing that Veronica had been returning from the bus stop daily with a sulking face and spitballs in her hair, Keith Mars had decided to use the remainder of their savings to buy her a used Le Baron. And now on the first day she had taken it to school, someone had let the air out of one of the tires. Fleetingly, she wondered if it had been Logan and felt a sinking dread in her chest.

"Hey…" she heard a voice behind her and turned to find him standing there.

"What?" she snapped, sounding harsher than she'd intended.

"Come on, lemme walk you home."

"Just leave, Logan."

"I'm going that way anyway, Veronica… there's a bus stop by your place."

She turned and looked up curiously at him. "Where's your car?"

He shrugged and dug his hands into the pockets of the hoodie she'd returned to him just a few days earlier, and looked dismally down at his feet.

"Just lemme walk you home…"

Slowly, Veronica got up on her feet and gave him an unsure nod, wrapping her arms around herself again as the rainfall grew heavier. She wondered why he had waited in the building for everyone to leave instead of just taking a ride from one of his friends as he unzipped his hoodie and pulled it off, offering it to her.

"No I—you keep it."

"Uh… here," he replied quietly, slinging one side on his shoulder and holding the other towards her. Tentatively, she stepped beneath the damp little tent he formed with the sweatshirt and his arm, and he made certain not to rest his hand on her shoulder.

They walked in an uncomfortable silence for about fifteen minutes, each one occasionally opening their mouths to say something, but deciding against it.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out suddenly, looking down at her face. It shone with the dew from the raindrops and her forehead creased into little worried lines. Her eyes looked bigger than he remembered.

"What about?"

Logan didn't care to specify all the things he felt sorry for, instead he just frowned thoughtfully at her and shrugged. It was then he noticed that his hand had come to rest around her and that she was tucked comfortably into the crook of his arm. He felt himself lean closer.

"All sorts of things," he answered finally, when the question had long since drifted away.

When she didn't respond, he pulled the wrinkled, folded picture he had taken from her from his back pocket and started to hand it to her. She took it and looked up at him. The tips of their fingers met briefly.

"Sorry it's all messed up…"

"It's fine… I-I have copies," she smiled forgivingly. "You can keep this… I mean, if you want—"

"Yeah, I… yeah. Thanks."

She stopped suddenly.

"What?"

"You, uhm… you turn here, I think." She replied, pointing at the opposite end of where she was to turn towards her apartment complex. "The bust stop's that way."

"Oh… I could still walk you home. It's only a few more minutes…"

"No, it's fine Logan…"

"But—"

"My dad's home."

"Okay." He nodded, pulling the hoodie off his shoulders and resting it along hers.

"Uh—"

"Just keep it," he smiled apologetically. "To shield you… for the next time I throw up on you…"

She smiled warmly as he pulled on the hood on her head. Wet tendrils of her long hair snaked out from beneath it and he let his fingers linger along them as he slowly pulled his hands away.

Before Veronica entirely realized it, she'd risen on the tip of her toes and was placing a gentle kiss on the edge of his mouth.

She pulled away abruptly, and mirrored his shocked expression as a blush crept up her cheeks. She had meant for it to be on his cheek… well, she hadn't meant for it to happen at all. Taking a step backwards, she realized his hand had a strong hold on her elbow and quickly pulled her back, this time pressing her body against his as he captured her lips with a violent urgency.

An arm snaked across her waist and the other's hand snuck into her hair as she circled her arms around his neck, feeling herself levitate into the air. His tongue traipsed across her bottom lip, stopping for his teeth to tug it apart from the top so he could slip inside.

Then it occurred to her that they were not levitating but that he had entirely lifted her into his arms and she floated, feeling a sudden sensation of warm sunlight along her skin, like the first day of summer.

Just as abruptly as it had began, he set her down and took a few awkward steps backwards. Veronica noticed the raindrops shine at the edge of his milky eyes and his lips pink from a rush of blood.

"Uh, I… I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have…" he trailed off. He continued to retreat backwards with a confused fear in his eyes before turning and disappearing into the rainy, gray afternoon.

Veronica pulled his hoodie closer around her and walk the remaining way home. She quietly asked her father to call AAA for her and went into her room where she changed into a dry set of pajamas. Pulling out the music box her mother had left behind for her when she'd abandoned the family two months ago, she opened and listened to the droning hum of the music.

Abruptly snapping it shut, she dropped the music box, along with the note promising her mother's return, into the wastebasket and walked out into the kitchen where her father was attempting to make a casserole. She smiled slowly to herself and snuck up behind him to pull him into a hug.

"Hey, Kiddo," he greeted, placing a small kiss on her damp forehead.

"Hi, Daddy."

(-) 00 (-)

Veronica's P.O.V.

He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, retrieving a lighter from his pocket and sparking its end.

"You given up on me?" he smiles, blowing tendrils of smoke from the side opposite me.

"It just occurred to me that ten years shaven off your life could work out in my best interest."

Logan smirks in response and takes another drag, watching me expectantly as I stare straight ahead. He takes another. And another.

I pull it out from his mouth and throw it forward, extending my leg to crush the stub beneath my boot as he erupts into laughter.

"You care! You _really_ care!"

"Shut up, I do not!"

He chuckles again and pulls out the pack, sticking another cigarette in his mouth. I yank it out and toss it away before he has a chance to light it.

"_Logan_!" I shake my head to myself. "Did you ever even try the nicotine patches I got you?"

"The ones you left in my locker on my birthday?"

"It was charming," I inform him.

"I thought it was a gag gift."

"No, it was clever but thoughtful. I'm perfect that way."

"Oh, okay."

I roll my eyes at him. "Whatever."

I sigh and plop forward on my knees, inching towards the flat tire.

"Uh, what're you doing?" he asks, standing up.

"Changing my tire."

"Since when do you know how to do that?"

"I know plenty of things."

"You are Woman. Hear you roar."

"Logan, this is my fourth mysterious flat tire. It's called adaptation."

He leans against my car and, I may be imagining it, looks a bit impressed. Wrong time to remember that I hadn't replaced my spare after the last flat tire I had.

"Oh no…"

"What?"

"I seem to be lacking in the extra tire department."

He smiles again and lowers his hand to me. I take it and pull myself upward.

"Come on," he leans in close. "I'll drive you home on the back streets."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN**: **This chapter gets a tad NC17 and it would be my first attempt at that... so excuse the awkwardness and they may be a bit OOC but... yeah, here it is. Also, I wasn't sure if NC17 was inappropriate under this rating system (I don't entirely understand it to be honest) So I'll just put an asterisk where it starts and ends, but I don't really think it's all that dirty or anything…**

Anyway, comments are appreciated.

**Chapter 6**

Logan's P.O.V.

She turns around and smiles her coy little smile with the hot flush burgeoning along her cheeks and her lips that smell like strawberries. I circle my arms around her and lean in closer than I have to. Behind her I shove the key into the lock and swing the door wide open, inching onto her until I'm pressed along her body, holding it up as she falls backwards into my house. Kicking the door closed behind me, I grin against her mouth.

A few moments ago she was tapping her knuckles nervously against the passenger side window and staring out as the sun set and quietly she said,

"My dad's out of town this weekend… he left this morning."

Still tapping, she said,

"You can come over. _If you want_."

Already heading to my place, I replied, "Aaron's shooting in Miami….. my place cool?"

"Sure."

As she walked slightly before me towards the door, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and biting her lip, I let my eyes wander the length of her body. Closer and closer I leaned into her, feeling that familiar heat radiating from her, until she turned around. And smiled her coy little smile. 

(-) Flashback (-)

Logan Echolls chewed at the end of his pencil. He could feel her eyes on his skin, permeating right through into him and he didn't know how he would react if he were to turn around and glance her way.

By second period, everyone had heard about the bruise growing along his right eye down into his cheekbones. By fourth, several different theories popped up around Neptune High, speculating on its origins, none of which were either confirmed or denied by Logan. The two most prominent stories spread around the school were that of an encounter with several of the PCHers in which he was outnumbered, and a relic of rough sex with Paris Hilton.

Fifth period English, Veronica Mars was watching him intently, waiting for some sort of a sign, arguing with herself on whether or not she should approach him. Duncan, seated directly in front of him, glanced her way and shifted uneasily in his chair.

As they headed to lunch after English, Veronica decided to speak to him. She took a deep breath, pulled her backpack up on her shoulders and quickened her pace to fall in step with him and Duncan, gingerly tapping his arm.

"Um, hey… Logan?" she mumbled nervously and he abruptly brushed away her hand.

"Peon… no touching!" he snapped and grinned confusedly at Duncan, who was beside him, frowning slightly.

Startled, Veronica halted mid-step and stood still, watching as the two boys disappeared into the crowd and a few people chuckled around her.

"What was that all about?" Duncan asked, as they started to head out into the quad.

"No idea."

"Have you been… talking or something?" he pressed as the two reached their usual lunch table. "Cause you can, I mean—"

"Dude, drop it. I have no interest in talking to Veronica."

"Speaking of Veronica," Madison sneered as they sat down. "Did you catch the way she was staring at you in English, Duncan?"

Logan frowned and looked up at her. "She was?"

"Uh, yeah… cree-py," she sing-songed. "So is it true you're having a torrid affair with Paris Hilton?"

He rolled his eyes and sunk low on his seat as Madison went on to another subject. Discreetly darting his eyes over at her table, he saw Veronica dropping her bag and sitting down with her tray. She was watching him again. Or maybe she was watching Duncan.

(-) 00 (-)

Veronica Mars tugs at my tongue. 

She chews on my lip and purrs up against my body and swings her legs to wrap around me. She bites and sucks at the flesh below my ear as I tumble forward onto the stairs, making my way up as her fingers wind around my hair. I trace the slope of her hipbones with the pads of my thumbs and she jumps up against me reflexively and I feel my legs buckle. She plops down on the top stair and pulls me on top of her and my pulse races to a fast beyond the telling of it. 

She pulls away, panting her strawberry breath as she looks down and pulls at the end of my shirt and follows with her own. I sink back into her mouth and feel her lips tremble as she mumbles my name.

(-) Flashback (-)

"Hey… it's Veronica Mars!" he slurred into the telecom speaker, watching her on the screen, standing at his front gates. She looked up determinedly into the security camera, clutching an umbrella above her and said, "Let me in."

"We're not big on taking in strays, babe. But if you ask real nicely, maybe I can have Daddy Dearest write you a check."

"Logan, just let me in."

"Hints have a way of going riiiight over your pretty little head, don't they?"

"I want to talk to you."

"I don't. Or did you not catch that in school today?"

She paused and frowned into the camera lens, struggling to hold on her umbrella in the quickening rain. "I assumed you didn't want to talk to me in front of Duncan… it's fine."

Veronica heard an annoyed scoff come from the telecom and sighed dejectedly, considering leaving when the gates began to slowly part. She saw the lights in the pool house and headed towards the door, gently knocking on it. When there was no answer, she twisted the handle and walked in to see him huddled into a corner, blaring earphones hung around his neck and a near empty bottle of vodka cradled beneath his chin.

"Logan…" she said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"Veronica." He sounded out her name exaggeratedly and then let out a bitter chuckle. "Hey… you're all wet…"

She pulled her sweater tighter around her.

"Isn't it a little late for you to be out? It's, like, eleven… Papa Mars is gonna throw a fit if he finds out you're with a boy this late."

"He's… not home." Her father had said something about a bail jumper in Arizona and said he would be home the following day, or at the latest, the day after.

"Off solving crimes, I assume. Or did he leave you too?"

He stopped, waiting for her to throw back a comment about his mother that never came. She simply stood there looking nervous, stupidly bunching up the hem of her sweater in her fingers.

"So how can I be of assistance today, Mars?"

"You can tell me what happened," she nodded towards his eye. "What _really_ happened."

"You didn't hear about me and Paris?"

"Logan…"

"What?" his voice cracked and he sounded tired. "Christ, what the fuck do you want from me!"

"Just… don't lie to me."

"I don't owe _you_ anything."

She narrowed her eyes and raised her hands in defeat. "I can't win with you, can I?"

"I'm not the one you're trying to win."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you just want your life back! And since Duncan tossed you, you thought you can just climb back through me; honestly, Veronica. That's low even for you."

"You know that's not what happened—"

"And what exactly happened?"

"You kissed me!"

He smirked cruelly and gulped from his bottle. "That was you?"

Veronica crossed her arms around her chest.

"Yeah, that was me," she replied quietly and turned around to leave.

(-) 00 (-)

I slide my finger out from her and she sighs contentedly, pulling me back down to kiss her again. She's still weak kneed so I hold her in my arms as I carry her into my room, all her clothes tangled up on the stairs. Fumbling with the zipper on my jeans she flops backwards onto the bed as I pull them off with my feet and she starts working down my boxers, until we're both naked. She pulls her body to press against me so that her flushed skin tingles against mine and I'm having trouble keeping from sinking inside her.

She looks up at me imploringly, her eyes shining in the dark and she pulls down on my shoulders, trying to push me into her, but something stops me.

The locket sparkles around her neck and I wonder if she's thinking about _him_. 

She intakes a desperate breath of air and arches her back so that her hips rise to grind against mine but I pull back, teasing the edge of her skin with the tip of my erection. It makes her gasp and a frantic bubble of tears rise in her eyes. She digs her nails into my shoulder and urgently hisses my name. And I want to know that she wants me as much as I want her.

I start to dip briefly inside her and she flutters her eyes closed, bracing herself when I pull out again. Suddenly something like a sob escapes her throat and her cheeks are burning red with embarrassment and desperation.

"Logan… pl-please…" she gasps, pleadingly, blinking up at me.

That's all I needed to know.

I plunge myself into her and another sob rushes into the air as she clutches at my shoulders, her face buried into the crook of my neck. I feel the spread of her relieved smile against my skin.

(-) Flashback (-)

The warm water gushed on over her head, dulling the throbbing migraine. It went on down her body and briefly she closed her eyes and forgot about her day.

Kissing him had been a mistake, she knew that now. It didn't matter that on occasion he could be an entirely different person than the one everybody else knew because when it came down to it, he would always choose to be what _they_ wanted.

Veronica didn't understand why she had kissed him, or why he had kissed her back for that matter. But her final resolve as she got out of the shower and wrapped a bathrobe around her was that she wouldn't let him get to her again. There was something far too scary about someone having so much power over her.

She walked into her bedroom and began to brush her hair into long, wet tendrils. The rain pattered against the window pane and kept her from realizing for a few moments that someone was knocking at the door.

Quietly, she crept out from her room and saw the shadow outside, recognizing it immediately. She muttered an apology to her father under her breath and walked towards the door, gingerly cracking it open.

"My dad did it," he said simply, looking down at his shoes. The rain whipped across his face and he winced under the heavy pressure of the water.

Veronica wordlessly opened the door wider and stepped aside as he cautiously made his way inside. She leaned against the wall by the doorframe as he closed it shut. The downpour outside seemed suddenly distant.

Tentatively, he raised his hand to her face, gently stroking the curve of her jaw line, patiently making his way lower until he reached the end of her neck and his fingers began to dip into the close of her robe. He heard a sharp intake of breath and stopped, his eyes popping upward to meet hers, tilting apologetically.

The sides of the robe began to gradually part as he realized that she had untied it, and then he saw the flash of her dewy, hazy glow into the darkness.

He looked again into her eyes and with a gulp and a slight nod, she conceded, and his fingers again resumed their gentle traipse downward. Her skin felt plump and damp from the warm moisture of her shower and he relished in the shaky rise and fall of her buttery belly as his touch quickened her breath. The tips of his fingers felt icy cold, dripping with rainwater as if he were melting with her touch. He felt his way between her legs and the ice slipping surreptitiously inside sent a shock up her spine and she gasped, her back arching in reflex.

He pulled her closer and trailed slowly along the walls until he found her pulse point, and provoked it so that she tucked her face in his wet neck to let out the scream bubbling up her throat with the burst of energy and the pleasure she didn't recognize, until her body fell limp into his arms. They remained static for a moment as she realized how his fingers now felt searing hot, as if the ice were turned into coal by her own warmth. 

He retreated his hands and used them to lift her legs and wrap them around his waist as he carried her to her bedroom, tossing her body on the bed as he fell atop her. He paused briefly to remove his clothing and she bit her lip as she saw his silhouette shuffling in the dark until she felt a pair of hips land on hers and felt him grinding down until something was digging inside her.

Another wave of shock sparked along her skin and she gasped again, bracing herself.

(-) 00 (-)

Veronica Mars absolutely hates to lose her composure. 

She hates it when she doesn't have a comeback for me, and she hates when she comes for me.

And she's never, ever fallen asleep after.

Usually by now, she would be halfway out the door, her cheeks all red, giving away her cool and collected exterior. But now she's fallen into an exhausted slumber and I'm feeling jittery and nervous, watching her sleep.

I get up, slip on my boxers and head to the bathroom to wash my face with cold water. Her even breathing is all I hear when I walk back into my room pull out my pack of cigarettes from my jeans. I go out and pick up her clothes to put them in the washing machine and start wandering aimlessly around my house.


End file.
